Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
When she lifts her gaze to meet mine, her eyes are brimming with tears. “All I want is for him to find the love he couldn’t have with me. And while I know it’s not my place to be here or to say anything to you at all, I know him well enough to know how he’s come to feel for you. My gifts being what they are, I know you”—she blows out a breath—“I know you are not the same scared little girl that I met last time I visited the shadow court, but I also know what you feel for Misha terrifies you. I feel it every time I see you look at him. I don’t know if it’s because he’s fae or because he’s king or because anyone with any sense of self-preservation feels at least a little scared of love so big, but I’m asking you . . .” She looks away, as if she can’t bring herself to finish that sentence.
“What?” I ask.
“I want to ask you to give him a chance.” She sniffs and wipes the tears from under her eyes. “But that’s not fair, given all you’ve been through and been asked to do. So instead, I’ll just say please don’t hurt him.”
The ache in my chest is too big. “I don’t intend to,” I say softly.
She holds my gaze for a long moment before giving a curt nod. “Thank you. I will see you at the ball.”
When I look in the mirror, I’m both awed and saddened by the image I see there. My handmaiden dabbed a pink gloss on my lips and lined my eyes with kohl before setting my hair into curls she let cascade down my back.
Misha’s gaze will no doubt linger on me tonight, and each longing glance will be a turn of the knife I’ve put in my own chest.
What would I see in his eyes if he ever looked upon the real me? Maybe it’s better that I don’t know. Maybe that would earn me nothing but pain.
“It’s time, milady,” my handmaid says.
I smooth out my dress and follow her into the hall, where a sentry greets me. He offers me his arm and escorts me down the stairs and along the winding creek through the castle to the ballroom doors.
“Wait here until they announce you,” he says, and moments later the doors are thrown open to reveal a grand stone staircase that descends into the courtyard. The space has been transformed into a ballroom for the occasion, lit by twinkling orbs that float over the dance floor with the moon and stars above.
A booming voice says, “Jasalyn Kincaid, princess of the Court of the Moon, sister to the Unseelie queen, child of Mab.”
Then all eyes are on me. Music plays, and one of Misha’s military officers takes my hand and leads me down the stairs and onto the cobblestones that will be tonight’s dance floor.
I spot Misha at the other side of the courtyard. He’s surrounded by people vying for his attention, but his eyes are on me—slowly sweeping over every inch of me in this dress.
My body goes hot, and my stomach twists with anxiety. He’s looking at Jas, not you.
“May I have this dance?” someone asks behind me, taking my elbow in his hand. Before I realize what’s happening, the orchestra has transitioned to a soft tune and the handsome white-haired male has swept me into the throng of dancers.
“Good evening,” I say awkwardly. I look up into his sea-green eyes and nearly stumble at the sight of the male looking back at me. The Seelie king. I’m dancing with King Ronan.
“You made quite the entrance,” he says. “Every pair of eyes will be on you for the rest of the night.”
My cheeks heat. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. Half the females here are trying to win Misha’s hand, and now they’ve seen the way he looks at you. You have a target on your back whether you like it or not.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I wasn’t trying to imply that it was.” He smiles, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. “It’s good to see you, Jas. I’ve missed you.”
Oh no. They’re friends? “It’s probably my fault,” I say, dodging his gaze. “I admit I’ve not been good about keeping the company of others in the last few years.”
His expression softens. “I don’t blame you. If anything, I should’ve done more to find time.” He lowers his head so his mouth is by my ear when he says, “I am still your friend, just as I was in Elora, and I am here for anything you need. Please know that.”
I swallow hard, unsure what to make of that and positive a response is more dangerous than my silence.
The song ends, and King Ronan steps back, squeezing both of my hands. “I have no doubt you will be kept busier than you’re prepared for tonight, so I will say now that I hope you come visit me at the Golden Palace. You are welcome anytime. It would do my heart good to have an old friend walking the halls.”